


holy nothing

by a_good_soldier



Series: s13 codas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Platonically) - Freeform, Angst, Episode: s13e01 Lost and Found, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Introspection, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 17:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12347607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_good_soldier/pseuds/a_good_soldier
Summary: dean mourns his future.





	holy nothing

**Author's Note:**

> jesus CHRIST what an episode y'all. i really love the idea that s13 will be a largely reflective season with more of an internally exploratory bent to it. [this cool article](http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/live-feed/supernatural-season-13-premiere-explained-1048340) talks about how this premiere gives us something we haven't really seen before in spn and i'm super excited about it tbh
> 
> warnings for some serious angst & the briefest most oblique mention of suicide.

Dean wakes up at three, Jack in the bed across from them, Sam snoring away beside him. They thought they’d keep watch, but then thought that Jack might get riled up if he thought they were suspicious of him, and then Dean said he’d pretend to sleep and here he is with four hours missing. At least Satan’s kid isn’t gone too.

Dean said they should push on through till they got to Lebanon, but Sam pushed for the motel, said they needed to rest, said it wouldn’t do anybody good if they drove themselves off the road out of exhaustion. Dean’s not so sure about that, of course, but then again, Dean’s hardly sure of anything now.

He’s thinking on what that angel said, about them acting like the whole world revolved around them, about them dragging everyone else down with them. It’s not like he’s never thought it before. Sam and Dean Winchester, toddlers in a playroom. They can’t help smashing what they find. Their parents didn’t teach them any better.

Sam murmurs in his sleep next to him, and curls up closer to the heat of Dean’s right leg. Dean wasn’t letting Sam sleep on the side closer to Jack, and as much as Sam’s the number one member of the Jack/Hellspawn fanclub, he didn’t put up too much of a fight. Probably has something to do with whatever Sam’s seeing that’s got his eyebrows scrunched up tight and his arm shivering in the warm spot left behind by Dean’s back. Dean’s made it his goal in life to never think too hard about what Sam dreams of. Oh, sure, he’ll listen if Sam wants to talk, but Dean’s got enough memories of Hell to last him three, four, five lifetimes. He’s not strong like Sam. If he had Sam’s nightmares, he’d be dead in a ditch, most likely at his own hand.

But then— “Cas,” Sam whispers, so soft Dean wouldn’t have heard it if he hadn’t been listening for it. Looks like this is a nightmare they share after all. The name curls in Dean’s throat. He blinks back tears — since yesterday (and Jesus, it’s only been a day, two days, since they lost everything) they’ve come on quicker than normal — and notices that his hands are clenched up tight. He forces himself to relax.

Sam rolls towards Dean, his huge right leg nudging itself into Dean’s lap. The movement shakes something loose in Dean, like he’d just been waiting for someone to touch him, someone to remind him he’s still here when everyone who deserved life — everyone who deserved a second chance, a third chance, a fourth chance, the lives he kept getting even after he stopped begging for them — isn’t.

It hits him, then. Sam’s the only one left. He knew it ten, twenty years ago; Sam would be the only one left for him. He’ll die if Sam does, there’s no way around that, but God, he thought— he thought it’d be easier to survive everything else. He thought if Sam made it, then he would too and be happy for it, but it’s— it _hurts_ , deep, like what’s lost isn’t just love, it’s his whole future. He really thought he’d escape the claustrophobia of a Winchester-codependent childhood. He really hoped.

It starts small, quiet like, like Dean’s just breathing heavy, but the tears start going and he’s gasping out _Cas_ on every other breath, like he’s safe enough to break down, like the monster who took him from Dean isn’t sitting five feet away. Dean shakes, and covers his mouth with both hands, desperate not to wake anyone else up. He closes his eyes, waiting for a whole new day to start. Another goddamn sunrise he doesn’t want to see.


End file.
